


It's a Long Day in July

by MajorEnglishEsquire



Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Translation Available, Unresolved Sexual Tension, southern heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/pseuds/MajorEnglishEsquire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sledge & Snafu in their apartment. It's nearly too hot to move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Long Day in July

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [It's a long day in July](https://archiveofourown.org/works/734029) by [MajorEnglishEsquire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorEnglishEsquire/pseuds/MajorEnglishEsquire)
  * Inspired by [Targetverse](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/19063) by thoracopagus. 



> This concerns the characters in the series and has no relation to the lives of the real Sledge and Snafu. No disrespect is intended. I don't own these characters, am not profiting from this piece of fiction, & don't intend any harm by doing so.

Eugene was on the couch, head at one end, toes pointing off the other, staring up, watching the rock-rock-rocking of the ceiling fan going at full speed.

"You know what we should do?" he asked.

There was a pause, and from far out of his visual range somewhere, Snafu answered.

"Elope?"

There it was again. Jesus.

"I don't think that word means what you think it means. I mean... what do you think 'elope' means?"

He didn't look over while Snafu sussed this out. He looked at the long white ceiling and heard the fan tock-tock-tocking. His eyes swept from the light above the window and into each dark corner up above.

"Run away. To Mexico or something," came Snfau's lazy drawl.

"It means more like, run off and get married without telling anyone. I mean, every time you say that, you're getting us married, you realize that, right?" he adjusted his shirt under his head, plumping it. It still sat uncomfortably as the rest of the old couch beneath him. He still only had the ceiling and no will to look beyond it.

"Oh," Snafu said after another few minutes. There was a shuffling and Eugene heard him finally shed his shirt. The heat was relentless. The boredom of a holiday weekend, endless. It was not even noon. They had two more days of this shit and no functioning car between them. The summer sun kept them in the dark shade of their apartment. Their finances kept them from pushing the a/c as far as it would go.

"What are we going to eat. I'm not fucking heating anything up in that kitchen, it's hot enough."

All he heard was his own breathing for a while before the rhythm of the fan caught the pull-chain again and the fan took up another round of knocking.

"We could elope to Canada. Don't people elope to the Bahamas or some shit, normally? We could elope to _Canada_. It's cool there. Cold, probably. We could go fishing."

"Right. First comes marriage, then comes fishing," Eugene rolled his eyes at the inattentive ceiling.

"I don't think you're giving this idea the credit it deserves. Hey, they got gay marriage in Canada yet?"

"I...." Eugene thought. "I never thought to ask. Whatever. I mean, I'm trying to tell you, you don't have to get married to run away, and vice versa, of course. It would be running off or road tripping or something. It wouldn't be 'eloping.'"

"It could be eloping if there were gay marriage," Snafu pointed out.

"There's no gay marriage!" Eugene's arms found the energy to flail a bit. "There are no gays!"

"I could get gay for Canada right about now. Shit, I could get gay for crawling into the fridge right now."

This was nonsense and not worth replying to. Eugene thought about food. He thought about how a plate of hot rice, a paella maybe, would be cooler than his back sticking to the couch cushions right now. He thought about the bowl of a giant margarita glass in both hands, fingernails chipping the frost off the sides, big huge gulps.

Then he thought about the pink heat of his face when he had rum or tequila or anything bigger than half a beer.

He thought lustfully about an Icee. In a movie theater maybe.

"I'm thinking about Canada, Sledge. Come marry me in Canada. French Canadian babies. They got Mardi Gras in Canada with all them French people?"

"What the...," he mumbled, "what the _fuck_ are you babbling about?" Eugene silently pleaded at the ceiling for patience before there was suddenly a sticky palm on his naked stomach. Snafu crawled up from the floor beside him, using his fucking ribs for leverage.

"Lemme just get this straight," Snafu's fingers went on automatic, searching his pockets for his pack and lighter as he scrutinized Eugene. "It's the word you object to. Not a gay marriage eloping-thing itself."

"I donno, you could blow me for the plane ticket," flew out of Eugene's mouth before he had the time or the breeze or the goddamn civil intelligence enough to stop it.

He stilled like a stone slab under Snafu's super-warm hand.

The other hand popped a cigarette between his lips and there was a slow corresponding raise of an eyebrow.

"We could go to the cheap theater. They've got Slurpees, I mean, they're not as good as Icees."

Neither Snafu's silence nor his eyebrow indulged the hasty deflection.

His fingers drummed once, and slowly, across Eugene's belly.

The hand raised into the air, then, just hovering over the prone form and up. Fingers shifting the slightest. It was a long moment before the giant of Snafu's fingers crossed above Sledge's eyes and stopped. Another minute before they descended and dove straight into the warm, long tendrils of his red hair. Snafu pushed his fingers back through it one long time, one looong caress.

From this close Eugene could see a shimmery sweat all along the arm. Wondered when this moment would be over because it couldn't be soon enough.

And of course, because it was Snafu, just when it stretched all long and excruciating, his head just came down closer and he plucked the cigarette from his own lips.

He took a long moment inhaling. His fingers, Eugene felt, crooked slightly in his hair, before Snafu blew a low, cool stream of air all along Eugene's neck, from shoulder to ear. The sweat there cooled and clung.

He swallowed and clutched a couch cushion.

"I'm hurt, Sledge," Snafu almost whined. "I never ask anybody but you to elope with me and you never will."

Eugene couldn't fucking think. Snafu's long fingers rested against his skull. His hand pulled down slightly. Now it really was a caress. His hand pulled down all warm over his ear. He didn't _think_ his eyes were as big as he thought they were. He tried to play it cool.

Snafu was still breathing over his neck.

He wasn't playing it very fucking cool, he didn't think, as he remembered that he might have to breathe soon.

"Sledge," Snafu said, seeking his undivided attention, palming his head to the side.

"You don't think a Slurpee's better than an Icee? Did you get raised by wolves or something?"

Eugene blew out a breath.

Snafu laughed at him, deep in his solid chest. "Don't worry, Sledgehammer," he blinked long and slow, smile still skimming over his teeth, "I won't kiss you until you say you'll elope with me."

His hand slid down and out of Eugene's hair, patted over his collarbone lightly and then Snafu was up and away, out the front door to smoke his cigarette.

It was another few minutes before Eugene could move his hand to his own head and think for a minute.

Holy shit, he thought. We have sexual tension.

Holy shit, he thought. He thought about Canada and fishing and a window open on a rental car with Snafu driving and him bitching in the next seat. He thought about motels and hotels and one bed or two and he thought: holy shit.  
I'm thinking about it.


End file.
